


Levi x Reader: Never Again

by leiler



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Rough Sex, Smut, a ridiculous amount of smut, borderline non-con, fwb w levi, literally no plot just fucking, lots of smut, may be triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiler/pseuds/leiler
Summary: “Last try, or I’ll fuck you over your desk faster than you can blink.”You tense up. What was he looking fo-Oh.
Relationships: Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) & Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Y/N x Levi Ackerman, reader x levi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 203





	Levi x Reader: Never Again

“I’m serious. Not tonight. We have a mission tomorrow.” 

Moonlight poured through the dark room, illuminating the delicate contours of Levi’s face. You stood behind your desk, relaxing your hips against it for comfort. One hand gripped your chair, beyond which stood Levi. 

He looks at you indifferently. “Fine, I don’t care. As long as you’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure,” you say, shifting against the desk.

He turns his gaze to the window. Something about him seemed… off. He was mad. Maybe something went awry on his last mission. Either way, you couldn’t care less. All you used him for was sex--or rather, you used each other. But you didn’t want to do anything right now, especially considering the importance of tomorrow’s mission. 

You fidgeted with the wood on the desk, peeling at some splinter that had come loose. Should you ask about it? Probably, you decide. 

You speak, mimicking his evasive tone. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes stay fixed on something in the distance. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ackerman. I can tell.”

And suddenly, he’s right in front of you. But that same, disinterested look remains. 

“You can tell what, Y/n? Huh? What do you think you know?” He stared right into your eyes, his own hard and unblinking. 

He lifted his right arm, sliding a stray strand of hair behind your ear before attacking your neck. 

It’s slightly softer than normal, but not because he was being loving; rather, he was teasing, the ghost of his lips burning across your skin, setting your senses ablaze. 

You roll your head to the side, allowing him better access to the sensitive skin he was so torturously provoking.

Wait. No. The mission. 

Your hands rise to his chest, over his uniform, as you push him away. He didn’t budge. Why was he so mad?

“Levi, wait-”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he reached a hand under your skirt, gliding over your inner thigh until he reached your core. 

He walked around you, breaking contact suddenly, before pulling you down to sit on top of him. His hand returned to your thigh, sliding up again. 

You wanted to stand. You knew you should stand. You _knew_ that he wouldn’t dare hurt you, even in this state. And you had a mission. But you didn’t. God, why was he so fucking hot?

His right hand started feeling you over your undergarments. You sucked in a sharp breath.

He whispered down your neck, “You like that, huh? You still sure you want to sleep?”

His tone utterly failed to reflect the effect he had on you. He seemed so impartial, even knowing you were slowly unraveling at his fingertips.

You steady yourself. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” His traitorous hand slides beneath your underwear, his fingers gracing your clit, before rubbing you smoothly.

You try to speak. You meant to, at least, but all that comes out is a soft moan. 

“I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already so wet-” You grab his leg, hard, sinking your nails in as he continues. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. That’s when he does something completely unexpected. 

He grabs the back of your head, turning your face towards him. 

“Stop. Now.”

Your hand releases at his command.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice smooth as butter.

You’d never seen him like this. He wasn’t just _fucking_ , he was taking out anger. He was _resentful_. He was _scary_. 

He pushes a finger in without admonition, and you have to will yourself to relax around him. But as you do, the pleasure begins flaring through you--it subdues you. As his hand releases from your head, it wanders to your breasts, groping them roughly beneath your shirt. 

“Wait.” You finally bring yourself to speak. It’s a bit more breathless than you would have preferred, but an indignant undercurrent flows through, nonetheless. 

He grabs your nipple and twists it, _hard_. You yelp in pain, a short, animalistic growl escaping your throat shortly thereafter. He was being so rough. He had been rough before but this was different. 

“Wait, what, Princess?” It was sarcastic. There was nothing sweet or endearing about the name as he spoke it. 

Your thoughts scatter as your confusion comes to light. You didn’t have time to think about what he was saying. You were sure he could tell. He slid a second finger in. 

A strange sort of whine comes out of you. He was beyond reason. 

“Call me by my fucking name, and maybe I’ll listen.”

“Wait, Levi.” You moaned his name, and he bit your neck, leaving small, bowed depressions as he left. 

“Last try, or I’ll fuck you over your desk faster than you can blink.”

You tense up. What was he looking fo- 

Oh. 

“Wait, Master.” You squirmed as you spoke. You _hated_ speaking up to others, it was demeaning. And he fucking knew it. 

“Yes?”

You paused for a moment. At this point, you were desperate. You were mad, but you were so hungry for more. You wanted to tell him to take you right then and there, to push you over the edge, _finally_. To keep you up all night. But the fire of competition also burned deep within you. 

“Wait-” you moan loudly, pursing your lips to repress the noise before finishing your sentence. “-not tonight.”

“That’s not my name. No can do.”

A third finger slipped inside you as he began moving in and out faster and faster. You arched against him, pushing your breasts into his hand. 

You should hate him. You should tell him to stop. But you _knew_ you wanted him. You _knew_ that something about him appeased the aching feeling between your legs that grew when he wasn’t around. Unfortunately, so did he. And he was not a forgiving man. 

You could’ve screamed when he removed all three digits. Fuck, you were so close. You could feel him grin on your neck. 

From beneath you, he picked you up and bent you over your desk, sheets scattering throughout the moonlit room. That was when you heard it--the sound of his buckle releasing and the bottom portion of his uniform falling to the ground.

He placed himself right at your entrance, pushing just the tip in, which earned a small gasp from you. But then he stopped.

He grabbed your hair, pulling your head towards him in one swift, painful motion. Your hands shot to his own, trying to dislodge his fingers from the strands. He only gripped harder, at which point you gave up and returned one hand to the desk to support your upper body and take the burden off your neck. 

“Beg, Y/n.”

To beg or not to beg, that is the question. It seems simple, but begging would be humiliating--you would never stand by such behavior. Y/n L/n doesn’t beg. 

Silence engulfed the space for a few moments before a stinging sensation consumed your thigh, the imprint of Levi’s hand remaining. 

“I said, fucking beg, Brat.” 

He slid into you at a mockingly slow pace, just barely inching along. But his touch sparked a sense of competition within you--like hell you were going to beg. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, with an almost disgusted tone. It sounded harsher than you had intended it to be, and a pang of guilt stung the back of your mind. You dismissed it. He probably deserved it anyway.

And with that, he slowly removed himself all the way to the tip before he plunged into you, uncaring of the consequences of his actions. You moaned his name. 

He moved quickly, too quickly, but just fast enough, all in the same. It was unnerving yet thrilling, the way he moved, and the effect he had on you. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

“Don’t fucking talk to me that way, L/n.”

He yanked your hair harder, and you arched to lessen the pain, the new angle improving his access to you inside and out. He reached his hand to your inner thigh, sliding it up where he flicked your clit.

You wanted to tell him that you would talk to him however you want--and then you were right there again, looming over the precipice, ready to fall. You open your mouth to speak and then shut it as a moan came out. 

The way your bodies moved together in harmony, the way your thighs bore the impressions of his hand, the way he manipulated your body so perfectly. _Him_. He pinched your nipple. 

And then you fell. 

You shook, convulsing like a woman possessed, spasming around him. And with a thrust of his own, he came as well, the hot fluid filling you. 

He released your hair and then fell on top of you, the sound of his ragged breath filling your ears and the heat of it burning at the crook of your neck. 

You both rested there, just feeling how your bodies molded so fluidly--it brought you a certain peace. You should’ve been mad, you should’ve been fuming. You contemplated calling him out on his behavior but thought better of it. Being there--with him--it was tranquil, it was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful, even in his nefarious state. 

It took him a moment, but, eventually, he rose. It was only when you heard the clamor of him buckling his uniform that reality set in. You had a mission the next day _and_ this fucker ignored you when you told him that. 

You picked yourself up off the desk, and walked to the window next to your closet, admiring the trees and the faint ramblings of wild beasts in the distance. 

He was nearly dressed by now--you could hear him behind you--and you decided to change yourself. You slipped out of your uniform, replacing it with a soft nightgown that draped over your skin, perfectly framing your figure. It had been your mother’s before it was yours. 

You only turned when you heard footsteps approach the door. He returned your gaze before speaking.

“Never again,” his voice impassive as always. 

Your heart sunk. Never again, what? Never… like this? Never as hateful? Or simply never? You fumbled with the thoughts as they mounted upon each other.

You could only watch as he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Never, huh?

We’ll see about that, Ackerman. 


End file.
